HARRY POTTER The Third Rising: Back from the Dead
by XJHoshi-chan
Summary: This is a next-generation HP fanfic about Voldemort's third rise (third time lucky, right?). It picks up from where J.K. Rowling left off in the epilogue, nineteen years after the Final Battle of Hogwarts. Hope you fellow Potter-heads out there like it! :)
1. Chapter 1: Nineteen Years Later

**DISCLAIMER:** This is a fan-fiction written for non-profit, fan-girling, writing-skills-improving purposes only. I am not (as much as I wish I was) J.K. Rowling and therefore do not own any part of Harry Potter (apart from the feels that make me die inside).

_The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry's hand was still raised in farewell._

_"He'll be alright," murmured Ginny._

_As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand and absentmindedly touched the lightening scar on his forehead._

_"I know he will."_

_The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well. _

_~Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

And of course, it had to be at that exact moment when a hot, searing pain exploded in Harry's forehead. If he had reflected on it and compared it to the countless times he'd felt the same pain before, Harry would've found himself thinking that the pain was actually not that bad. However, at that moment, he was too shocked to think anything. In fact, for a few seconds, Harry couldn't quite recognise what the pain was.

"Harry! Are you alright?" Ginny sounded both bewildered and concerned.

"I-" Harry realised that he was covering his scar with his hand, a move so instinctive that nineteen years hadn't removed it from his muscle memory. He turned to Ginny, his face reflecting her bewilderment.

"My scar," he said no louder than a whisper. "It started hurting again."

Kingsley Shacklebolt was on the phone with the muggle prime minister when Harry Potter burst into his office. He knew it was Harry straight away because the Head of the Auror Department was the only one who was respected (and, as he suspected, brave) enough to burst into the Minister's office. Seeing that it was indeed Harry, he signaled him to wait while continuing with his conversation. When he saw that he was followed by the Weasleys and observed the unanimous look of fear on their faces, he dismissed the prime minister, putting down the phone as he turned towards the trio.

Between the three of them, they explained how Harry's scar had started hurting at King's Cross. Then they told him about the near-accident the Potters had had when Harry's scar hurt a second time as he was driving out of the station car park. After that, Ginny went home with Lily and Hugo. The other three aparated as close to the Ministry as they could and ran the rest of the way to his office where they were now standing.

Harry had been relieved when Kingsley seemed to believe them. The other officials, however, had other ideas. They'd been arguing for hours, having only been interrupted by Harry's jolts of pain from his scar, which half the room believed was an act.

"…it's only because Potter is no-longer getting as much attention as he used to!" Harry had zoned back in in the middle of Kirk Buskin's protest. "He's trying to make everyone recognise him as the hero again! That's what this is all about!"

_Yeah,_ Harry thought. _The last time they accused me of that, the Ministry was attacked. And Sirius…_ No, he couldn't think of that now; he couldn't lose his cool when something more important was happening.

"Then why hasn't anything happen yet, huh?" Buskin was now challenging Harry's point which someone else had apparently raised for him. "With all due respect, Harry," Harry was simply too tired to react as the barrister addressed him directly, "but if what you say is true and Voldemort has returned, why hasn't anything happened yet?"

Harry was about to correct him and say that he didn't think that anything was necessarily going to happen when, as if on cue, Teddy burst into the room.

"Harry!"

At first Harry thought that it was strange. For a start no one ever _burst _into the minister's office; well, no one apart from him, that is. What was stranger yet was that he had drilled into his godson on his first day of Auror apprenticeship that if the other apprentices didn't call him by his first name, Teddy didn't either. However, what Teddy said next was even stranger.

"There was this man in the Ministry. He just- just sort of _appeared_. It wasn't even as if he aparated. Of course, we checked but the aparation wards were working perfectly. Anyway, this guy, I thought he looked familiar but when he said it, I couldn't believe it! He says he's Sirius Black, Harry. The man who fell through the veil is Sirius Black!"


	2. Chapter 2: The Not-so-Stranger

**DISCLAIMER:** This is a fan-fiction written for non-profit, fan-girling, writing-skills-improving purposes only. I am not (as much as I wish I was) J.K. Rowling and therefore do not own any part of Harry Potter (apart from the feels that make me die inside).

_"Albus Severus, you were named after two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."_

_"But just say – "_

_"–then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account."_

_"Really?"_

_"It did for me."_

Al kept replaying the conversation in his mind, long after he had boarded the train, long after he had waved his parents and sister goodbye and long after the platform had disappeared into the distance.

_It doesn't matter to us, Al._

He wished it didn't; he really wished it didn't. It shouldn't have mattered. He knew that James didn't mean it when he said that Al was going to be an "evil Slytherin snake". If Al turned out to be a Slytherin, James would've actually been shocked. Shocked, yes, but not disgusted or mortified. He knew that his parents wouldn't have minded.

_And I wouldn't mind,_ either, he thought, _if only it wasn't a sign for something bigger. If only what happened that day, three years ago–_

Al's thoughts were interrupted by an elbow to the ribs – James' elbow. Al's brother had come into the cabin half an hour into the journey, apparently having just remembered how their mother had "used death threats" to make him let Al tag along with him until they got to Hogwarts. It was probably partially true, but from James' smile and the way his friends "subtly" walked back and forth outside the cabin that he, James and Rose shared, he knew that there was a dare and a prank in it somewhere.

"What?" Al asked James while rubbing his side. After a puddle on his seat, two bewitched spiders and a generous jelly bean offer Al had graciously declined, he thought that James would've had enough. As he looked up, he was pleasantly surprised to see that James didn't have his mischievous smile plastered onto his face. On the contrary, he looked genuinely curious as he turned towards the Asian girl at the cabin door.

Al recognised her right away; the girl looked exactly the same as she had the day Al met her at Ollivander's, from her straight, raven-black hair, ink-coloured coat and boots of charcoal to the alert, cautious look in her eyes. Despite her petite frame, that look and the way she carried herself made her look much older. That's the first thing he'd noticed about her that day at the wand shop, along with the fact that she was alone. She didn't have her parents at her side like Al did, nor was she surrounded by a group of friends like James. Al had just observed this when the wand he had been trying, chestnut and dragon heart-string, jerked wildly in his hand. Wand boxes flew everywhere, a vase cracked somewhere to his left. Al honestly had no idea why Mr. Ollivander ever bothered with vases in the first place, given the countless times they would've been destroyed. However, at that moment, he was too caught up in not tearing down the place to think any further about the old wizard's choice of decorations.

Once the shop had acquired its messy (yet thankfully still) status, Al felt his father's hand on his shoulder, asking if he was alright. Al nodded. With a few flicks of their wands, the adults had restored the place to its former glory. Al couldn't help but think that he could've done it even faster, without the need of a wand or a spell. He put a reign on those thoughts and mentally slapped himself. This was the first step to controlling his magic, to make him _normal_.

_But you don't _need_ to be normal, _a little voice in his head said to him. _You can already control your magic. In fact, you're more powerful than all of them, even your father._

He told the voice to shut up. Focusing on the situation in front of him, Al realised that the rebellious piece of chestnut he had been holding was now lying near the entrance of the shop. As he bent down to and reached for the wand, he saw a hand with thin, delicate fingers gently reach down and pick it up. He looked up and saw the girl giving him a shy but friendly smile. Al blinked. He had almost forgotten that she was there.

"Th- thanks," Al stammered as she gave him the wand.

"It's alright," the girl said. To Al's surprise, there was a quiet reassuring confidence in her voice.

"I'm Al, Albus Potter."

"Rina, Rina Gami."


End file.
